


Technicolor

by InsertImaginativeNameHere



Series: Detective AU [4]
Category: Baccano!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Typical Violence, Detective AU, Gen, I...cannot write Niki, Ignore my summary I'm up my own arse, excuse everything, my not-1705 bullshit continues, please send me a map to find my way out k thx, so far up here I'm lost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 04:26:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10823736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertImaginativeNameHere/pseuds/InsertImaginativeNameHere
Summary: Niki reflects on her own situation, her past, present, and what possibilities of a future there are. But once she started following Elmer down the yellow brick road, there was no going back. Only flying monkeys, and a meeting with the wizard.





	Technicolor

**Author's Note:**

> I SAID THIS WOULD BE THE END OF NOT 1705 BUT I SAW THE FUCKIN LIGHT. Okay, gonna have a conclusion chapter with everyone I think, that's what I've got in my head idk if it'll work as well outside my head but mannnnn can't give me as much stress as this chunk. This chunk is the reason I'm on anxiety medication. Jk jk it's actually bc lmao autism but damn is Niki is hard to write. Idk, we'll see. I don't think I was able to do as much with it because she's not one of the detectives as of yet (oh I do intend to change that, mark my fuckin words) so this is just very out of my writing comfort zone. But gotta stretch myself and see what I can do when I'm not on safer ground (i.e., bullshitting for Etsusa Bridge)
> 
> it's also late hence why I'm more unfunny than usual
> 
> criminal lack of Monica in this chunk I'll make up for it I swear

She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve any of this, precisely none, a grand total of zero things. She didn’t understand why it was happening, or what even had happened. Just that it seemed to still be happening when she woke up and hadn’t dissipated. As she’d thought it would.

Thought, almost hoped.

Hoped because the sooner it ended, the less it would hurt when she had to die. And it would end. And she would have to die eventually. If she died sooner, the others wouldn’t realise what she was, what a disappointment she would be. A dull, tedious little mouse. Nobody and nothing. Until now, she hadn’t been seen as a person by anyone. She didn’t deserve it.

This wasn’t her life anymore, it was an unprecedented tangent she could never have predicted. This was the life of someone else, a girl also called Niki who she felt utterly disconnected from. 

She looked in the mirror at the girl and felt a mixture of confusion and emptiness swallowing her up, and everything falling away, the stage sets of this artificial new life collapsing in on themselves and revealing only darkness, stifling heat and the smell of sweat, blood and a sickly intoxicating scene of the product they worked on. The real world. Her real life. Who she was, rather than this stranger.

What she deserved.

 

-

 

She knew her name was Niki. Nobody called her it much. The owners called her girl, or just ‘you’, if they were in a  _ good _ mood. They called her worse things the rest of the time, same as all the other trafficked children. The other kids didn’t really call her anything most of the time. They too were nameless faces who came and vanished without word. When they vanished, the others used to talk about how they might have escaped, how they might be free. Now they still talked about this, except freedom meant death. If you managed to dart away one day and jump under a moving train, you were free. If one day you fell asleep and never woke up, you were free.

If the Mask Maker got you, you were free. They were making a choice to end their own lives. It was practically the only choice they would ever get to make. They were free. Niki would be free soon.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. At the time she’d quietly accepted it would be inevitable. This was her route, it always had been. This was what she deserved. She didn’t need to feel anything about it. It was a fact, not something emotional. Still, she felt confused emotions and couldn’t pin why, or what exactly she felt. She had no idea.

And she had no concept of freedom, or what that would be like. It didn’t help. All she knew was that it had to happen. She had no say, no autonomy. She accepted this.

The Mask Maker would set her free.

Soon.

Whatever that would be like.

 

-

 

The closest thing to freedom she recalled was vague and fuzzy. She remembered a crowd, a hand in hers. She remembered the hand squeezing hers and she remembered being happy. Was it happiness?

She remembered a yelling and a bustling and the hand was torn from hers.

She remembered arms scooping her up as she struggled, and then there was the prick of a needle and she woke up in a dark room with other children who cried loudly. She didn’t cry. It felt useless, even then. She already knew it was futile.

Someone yelled at them to keep it down.

Travelling on the back of a 4x4, covered by tarpaulin and told to keep quiet or be quieted.

A boat, maybe.

Then this.

 

-

 

She woke up in a bed  - a  _ bed  _ \- with feather pillows and a hefty duvet. A small stuffed animal watched her with beady eyes from across the room. Everything was strange; pastels and lace curtains and soft carpet. Unfamiliar, new. Little labelled candles with pictures of lemons and honey bees. A grand mirror with the face of a stranger called Niki in it, set into a vanity desk which had drawers with powder and lipsticks. None of which she would have known how to use and all of which were too fancy for her.

There was a knock on the door and she jumped. Her mind raced, thoughts rushing through her head about  _ them _ . They’d come to take her back, wake her up. If they took her back, if they’d come for her...she wasn’t sure what she’d do. Accept it? Accept it and her in-coming death?

“Miss?” It was a female voice. “The master wants to know if you’ll be coming down for breakfast.”

_ The master _ . That strange-eyed man with the ponytail, who dressed like a musician, like Niki’s image of a rockstar, and acted so strangely Niki couldn’t understand him at all, maybe even less than she understood the smiling detective and his two romantic partners.

“I-I’m not hungry,” Niki replied, voice trembling. 

“He said if you said that, he’d serve breakfast in your rooms. Wellll….when he said  _ he’d _ serve breakfast, he meant  _ we’ll _ serve breakfast. He says a lot of things where women are concerned.”

“Oh,” Niki said, tonelessly. “He’s a womanizer, then?”

Laughter. Niki was glad of the door between them, hiding her blush. “No, like, the opposite, sort of. He...venerates women, if that makes sense, put all of us on this imaginary pedestal. It’s kind of cute but also crazy. It’s not a ‘pretty girls’ thing because he honestly believes all girls are pretty. Normally in an employer, that’s a sexual harassment case waiting to happen, but he never makes things sexual. I’m not sure he’s even interested in us in that way, like, honestly I kinda suspect he’s just not into sex itself like, at all, if you get me? I mean a couple of the others disagree, it’s a point of contention between us. But anyway, say what you like about his weirdness, he offers work to almost all the female students at the local college so we can pay our fees. I wouldn’t be able to get through school without him. He hires women out of shelters, single mothers, one of my friends is working for him to pay for her transition...point is, he’s doing his best. He’s harmless, don’t worry.”

“I’m not,” Niki managed, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them tight.

“You sound worried. Essa won’t lay a finger on you. Just let him show his weird respect, roll with it, like. It’s just how he is.”

“Why?” Niki asked.

“I don’t think there is a reason,” the voice replied. “Just him.” Silence. Niki swallowed nervously. “Anyway, breakfast is fish. You alright with fish?”

“Uh...yes?” she ventured tentatively.

“Swell. I’ll bring a tray up. Promise you, it’s really good. You’ll love it.”

Would she? The young woman on the other side of the door sounded certain. She seemed so happy and cheerful, so upbeat, Niki felt like a drab background figure fading into nonexistence. She hadn’t even seen the owner but she knew whoever that voice belonged to had to be so much more alive, not living in limbo like she was. Someone who knew happiness. And yet this girl called her ‘miss’, and was waiting on her.

She didn’t get it.

“Th-thank you,” she stammered eventually, too late, after the girl had gone, so quiet it was almost inaudible. “Thank you.”

 

-

 

There was a lot Niki didn’t get right now and the girl’s deference to her was the least of it. In her eyes the biggest mystery was the smiling detective, whose implausible kindness had saved her. Being saved was a foreign concept, as foreign as being free. She wasn’t sure it was even possible. The smiling detective disagreed. His name was Elmer. Niki had never met anyone who smiled as much as he did.

“Why are you helping me?” she’d asked and he’d smiled and replied simply;

“Because you looked sad, and I want to see you smile. That guy was hurting you, right?” She nodded. “You didn’t enjoy it. If you’d been smiling and had looked genuinely happy, I might have left you because it’s not my business if people enjoy being in pain like hey, I don’t kinkshame, but you  _ weren’t _ enjoying it. You should be able to smile, like I said. I’d very much like to see that happen, so I’ll offer my services as a detective. Did I tell you about my boyfriend yet? He’s a master detective with the world’s prettiest hair. And there’s our girlfriend Monica. We’re the ultimate team. If anyone can help you, it’s us.”

“I can’t afford-” Niki began but Elmer waved her off. 

“You don’t need to pay us in money. So far as I’m concerned, smiles are legal tender. The world would be a better place if everyone paid for things in smiles.” He didn’t stop smiling, but he did start to look confused. “Wait, no. That’d cause people to force smiles, and that’s no good. People should smile for real.”

“Is your smile right now real?” Niki asked, equally confused.

He shook his head. “Nope! But it never is, so I wouldn’t worry about that! The office is over here, by the way.” He directed her indoors before she could ask about his smile and she didn’t get chance to ask again because she was being introduced to Huey and Monica and they were having her story explained to them. Elmer did most of the talking. Guilt tugged at Niki’s stomach. She was leeching off them and had no right to be here. Why would someone like her deserve this? She wouldn’t. She didn’t. 

Worrying about that seemed more important than the strangeness behind Elmer’s smile.

She knew Elmer was a kind man. He’d helped her, even though he didn’t know her. Even though she was worthless. Worthless in general and worthless to him - she couldn’t pay, in money or in smiles.

She waited to ask him this in the taxi on the way to his supposed ‘safehouse’ but he didn’t shut up for long enough, rambling cheerfully at both her and the taxi driver, who turned the radio up and blanked him resolutely. This didn’t seem to bother Elmer one bit, nor did it halt his chattering. Eventually he gestured for them to pull over on a random unassuming sidestreet, paid the fare and asked the driver to smile for him. To which the driver responded by driving away.

Niki looked around nervously, feeling exposed and skittish. “Where are we going?” she asked, voice trembling, glancing from building to building.

Elmer beamed. “Don’t worry, it’s nowhere near here. I got the taxi driver to stop here in case anyone asks about us. Professionally, it’s what’s known as a red herring, though I’ve got no idea why specifically that kind of fish and not a bluefin tuna or rainbow parrotfish. Huey would know,” he mused, then shrugged it off. “Anyway, follow me! We’re on a magical mystery tour right now. Off to see the wizard!”

“We’re going to see a wizard?” Niki asked tentatively.

Elmer nodded vigorously. “Well, not  _ literally _ . It’s from a movie I watched a tonne as a kid. They go to see a wizard they think will save them, but he’s just a normal guy after all, with mad sciencey skills but not much else. Wait, I forgot to mention it’s about a girl who gets transported into another world with her dog, where everything’s all colourful because colour films just got invented. I’m so bad at explaining these things. There’s a song about going to see the wizard. There’s lots of songs. It’s a musical. It’s my favourite musical with flying monkeys in.”

“How many other musicals are there with flying monkeys in?”

Elmer looked uncharacteristically thoughtful. “Surprisingly few, now that you mention it. There’s always Wicked, but that’s technically a retelling of the same general story. There should be more flying monkeys in things. I’ve always thought what Les Miserlesables or however you say it needed was smiles all round and a healthy dose of flying monkeys.” He pointed them down an alleyway. “This way. We’re taking a very super secret route. So we don’t get tailed. Following the yellow brick road.”

The road was not brick, and a grubby sort of faded grey, so Niki guessed it was probably another song reference. She didn’t ask. Instead she wordlessly followed Elmer’s lead. Already she knew his summary would prove to be accurate. There was no wizard and he couldn’t help her. There would just be an ordinary man.

She was right, in one sense. Esperanza was nothing incredible, had no special powers and was not specifically special in any way.

However to use the word ordinary to describe him would have been beyond inaccurate.

As to whether he could help her...that was somewhat more complicated, but she wasn’t to know that then, was she?

 

-

 

There was a knock on her door, causing her once again to jump, bumping herself on the vanity desk and sending several objects flying. A small cough sounded on the other side of the door. 

“Just me, miss. I brought your tray.” Silence. “I’ll leave it just outside the door, you can come get it. Sound alright?”

“Yes,” Niki swallowed with fear. “It sounds alright. Thank you very much.”

“No problem. Bon appetit. That’s French, by the way. It means - uh, well, it sort of means enjoy your meal, basically. So enjoy.”

Niki wasn’t sure she could. She said nothing. Outside she heard the clatter of a tray setting down and then receding footsteps. Once she was done clearing up the strange things she’d knocked over, she opened the door a crack and peered around. There was the tray, plate covered in some kind of domed metal, polished silver. Taking it into her room, she eased it off and saw the promised fish. It looked good. Her small stomach was still full from last night though, and she wasn’t sure how much she could manage. She picked at it, cutting off tiny pieces and putting them in her mouth. She had to admit, the fish tasted good. In the end, she made her way through about half before she couldn’t stomach any more. Then there was a rapping at the door. Again? The maid come to collect her tray?

This time she eased it open and was surprised to see her host standing there. He tipped his head courteously. “Forgive the intrusion. I thought it best we discuss matters without our ever-exuberant detective friend at hand. Since he has gone out for the day, I believe now is an opportune time. If I am in error, please do not hesitate to send me away.”

“No, I-” Niki hesitated. “It’s okay?”

He nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. He could seem flippant in the way he dressed and in his manner, but he was very strange aside from that.  _ Very  _ strange. He was the only man she’d met who wore makeup, though she had seen billboards and such.

“Excellent. It would not be proper to converse in your rooms. Would you care to accompany me to the gardens?”

Niki nodded but stared at the man’s offered arm in confusion, following behind him instead. On the way out, she saw a couple of the servants tittering among themselves. 

“There he goes, acting like a period drama as always.”

“Does he think talking like he’s on Downton Abbey makes him some kind of gentleman, instead as some weird guy with a fixation on women.”

“I think we should rescind his thesaurus privileges.”

Niki couldn’t believe it. They were talking about someone in a position of authority while in earshot of him. He employed them. He was in charge. Didn’t that frighten them? Apparently not. Because this man would never lay a finger on a woman, of course.

They went through to a rose garden, an outdoor table, everything strange and beautiful and heavily stylised. Esperanza pulled a seat out for her and assumed his own place opposite. One of the maids offered tea. He accepted, Niki declined, shrinking into her seat.

“Now,” her host began, once he had dismissed the service. “Where do we begin? Our smiling friend has explained the bare bones of our situation. He is not, however, the most reliable source. Things may easily be coloured by his desire to see others smile. What’s your side of things? If you feel comfortable telling me, of course. I cannot bear to see a young girl in trouble and if Elmer is in any way responsible for your peril-”

“He- he isn’t,” Niki said quickly. “No, this is all my fault. I- I shouldn’t even be here. I’m so sorry.”

The man frowned. “There is no need to apologise. Really. If your fear imposing, rest assured there is no issue of that. If your fear is something else, something darker and worse...I will do what I can, I assure you.”

“I-”  _ I’m not sure there’s anything you can do _ , Niki started to say. The words never left her mouth. Her breathing sped up, catching in her throat and trapping the sentence where it was. She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t cry, but she was trembling. She felt wrong and ungrateful, declining help given with the best of intentions. She felt like a leech, scrounging off others, getting their attention when all she wanted wasn’t help, but for everything to... _ stop _ . She felt-

She didn’t have the right to feel any of these things, toward people who had saved her life. Ungrateful. 

“Miss Niki?” Esperanza was saying something but she couldn’t hear him, his lips were just moving soundlessly. “Breathe.”

She did. He said something else she didn’t catch. His phone rang. Niki didn’t know the song but felt like she recognised it. It was a song you always felt as though you’d know, regardless of how many times you had heard it or not. The only line Niki could pick out was ‘pretty woman’. 

He answered, listening keenly. “Protests, is it? Against the dated politics of this city? No, I don’t consider this personal. The women of this city feel powerless in a world run by old white men. No insult to your good self. I’m sure you have better things to be doing, a case of serial killers and such hurting girls, forgers and drug dealers in the underbelly and the like. Rather than, I don’t know, police brutality? If you hurt these women, who want only the best for their families and their livelihoods, I promise you I will take advantage of whatever dated politics still stand and end your career where it is. Do you understand?” A pause. “I’m sure. Goodbye.” His voice had changed, cycling from cheerful to cold back to polite and friendly, an airheaded clown.

That conversation had told her all she needed to know. Police, he’d said. The police were involved and Esperanza could hold some sway over them. But some wasn’t enough. The police were involved and it wasn’t safe. She had to get out of here.

“I’d like to go back to my room, please,” Niki said quickly. 

“Certainly. I’ll escort you.” Esperanza stood up.

Niki shook her head. “It’s alright. I know the way now. Th-thank you. For everything.”

Esperanza seemed taken aback. “It’s no problem. My honest pleasure.” From the way he said it, he meant it.

Which only made Niki feel guilty for the lie she’d just told. 

She wasn’t going back to her room at all.

But then, that was a given.

 

-

 

“Heyyy, Speran~. I got a client.”

Niki stared at the man Elmer had addressed as Speran, avoiding eye contact. He glanced her over. “I hope you haven’t been harassing this poor girl to smile. Apologies.” He bowed. “Esperanza Boroñal. Please call me Essa.”

Niki blinked. She couldn’t get past being bowed to. It was so utterly strange. Especially given that this guy looked...how he did. So nontraditional and strange, not like the members of higher classes Niki had seen before. Not that she’d seen many. What did she know?

“Aw, c’mon Speran. You’re missing the best part.” Elmer grinned. “He’s  _ technically _ a Count.”

“It’s a hereditary title,” Esperanza said, rolling his eyes. “It’s meaningless nowadays, good for only a little social influence and financial stability. I care little for the rest of it.”

“Still _ counts _ .” Elmer shot finger-guns at  Esperanza who didn’t even blink. “You’re like Dracula. Only you’re not a vampire. I don’t think so anyway. It would explain the constant eye bags though...and the obsession with women….Speran, were you a vampire without telling me the whole time?”

“Naturally,” Esperanza or Speran or Essa said drily. “A thought, however, not to negate your theory. Why would I need to be a vampire to appreciate the natural feminine beauty of women? Also, were I a vampire, don’t you think you’d be somewhere on my list of victims? I’m also a lawyer, albeit non-practising. Were I a vampire, would I be able to swear on the Bible? Otherwise, a stellar theory. Truly, a master detective at work.”

“I know, right?” The insult sailed right over Elmer’s head. “Anyway, Speran, no offence or anything but you sound like a total dudebro when you talk about the feminine beauty of women. Kinda weird.”

Essa sniffed. “Don’t associate me with  _ those _ . They objectify women and don’t respect them. It’s shameful. Now. What’s your name, Miss…?”

“Niki,” Niki murmured.

“Miss Niki. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He wasn’t being sarcastic.

They were served a rich dinner she could barely eat any of and she was given rooms - multiple - to rest in. Elmer was cheerful and chatty, Essa was permanently disappointed in him, but polite to her. None of it made so much as a semblance of sense. At all.

Things might have been more normal if there were flying monkeys after all.

 

-

 

_ Situation in Lotto Valentino threatens to bubble over _

 

_ Protests in the city have grown violent, as tensions run high between citizens and the police. There have been reports of looting, assault and vandalism. Representatives from both factions have been contacted but the police are yet to reply to allegations of brutality and civilian disappearances, while the protesters are in disarray. _

_ Quite what began the protests is unknown. Some of the rioters talk about lack of jobs, some say they want fairer elections and better representation in local government, less elitism and suppression of minorities. Some talk about the police’s failure to handle the Mask Maker killings, and the seemingly blind eye turned to the drug trade. Counterfeiting is also an issue many would like to see tackled, with almost one-third of coins and a fifth of all notes proving to be falsified. While richer citizens get away with running around the streets in delinquent gangs, poorer residents of Lotto Valentino are lucky if they aren’t arrested for jaywalking, so the protesters say. Well, some of them at least. _

_ The atmosphere is one of confusion but of anger, chaos but also rage. Nobody can agree on what they are protesting over, but they can agree on one thing - there has to be change, and fast. No matter how out of hand the situation has become, that much can be agreed upon. Both sides are doing very little to calm matters and so it escalates further still. _

_ Private investigators/vigilantes (reports vary) Zank, Denkuro and Nile have supposedly been seen in the city and a hastily deleted tweet confirms they may be looking into the counterfeiting and drugs, given Nile’s well-known hatred of narcotic substances. There was, in fact, police response from this in the form of a tweet from a Detective Victor Talbot who threatened to ‘fucking arrest you pricks yesterday and trial you tomorrow’. Said tweet was also deleted quickly and marks the fifteenth time in recent months that the Detective went on a rant at someone online. These rants commonly go viral and have their own fan-following. However, while this amusing side-note has soothed some police-civilian relations, the city is still rife with unease and the presence of three notorious vigilantes has perhaps been more beneficial and reassured people these crimes will not go unpunished. _

_ Meanwhile, the protests and rioting continues, making the peaceful, picturesque city more akin to a warzone. _

_ We advise anyone in and around the city centre to stay home for their own safety. Contact any friends or family you may have in the area and make sure they are safe. _

_ Updates as situation progresses. _

 

(The Lotto Valentino Post)

 

-

Niki made her way into town, unsure where exactly she was trying to get to, just away. Somewhere else. She couldn’t stay there any longer. So she walked the winding roads looking for that somewhere else. A place alone. What was she even meant to do? There were the plans, what was supposed to unfold, and there was what had unfolded and the disparity between the two grew and grew as more and more  _ things _ happened. When things started to happen, they kept on happening without remorse or relief. And Niki walked away from it all, following the streets and her footsteps wherever it was she was going.

The noise of the protests. Yelling and the shattering of glass. Niki shuddered. She decided to walk away from the noise, as was only sensible. Nobody in their right mind walked toward yelling and breaking glass. Niki was by no means in her right mind and she knew it, but still she walked away. Elmer probably wouldn’t have. She wasn’t Elmer.

Maybe it would have been nice to be able to smile all the time. She wondered how anyone became like that. He was probably very, very lucky indeed.

She found herself outside Laforet and Campanella’s office, staring up at the windows and wondering whether she ought to go in. 

Argument A - she should. They could help her. They’d noticed her and treated her like a person and were  _ helping _ her. Or trying to. Whether or not they could wasn’t important. It was enough that they’d noticed.

Argument B - they’d noticed her, and that was enough. Going back would only cause problems. Problems they, people who’d noticed her, didn’t deserve.

She was settling on argument B and turning away when she felt a hand to her throat and a wall against her back. Familiar sensations, both of them. All too familiar.

“I knew staking out this place would be worth the while,” the Chief of Police growled. “I wasn’t sure what we’d find but I knew those private detectives were up to something. I’d heard that Smile Junkie was the one who dragged you away. Were you thinking you could tell them your story and they’d rescue you, they’d care about  _ you _ ? They’re as helpless as anyone in this city. They won’t be able to stop us and they won’t be able to save you.”

“I-” Niki cut off, choking at the meaty hand gripping her neck tightly. 

“We need to ask you a few important questions. We’re gonna go into that van across the street and you’re gonna talk to us, or we’ll make you talk. Let’s be clear, we’re not adverse to that. And you’ll tell us all about how you and the rest of your ilk thought you could expose us by inventing the Mask Maker.” He grabbed her face hard. “And you’d better talk fast.”

 

-

 

The Mask Maker was fake.

The Mask Maker was real.

The Mask Maker was a tool for revenge.

The Mask Maker was freedom.

The Mask Maker was  _ a choice _ .

All these things were true, even if they sounded contradictory. Yes, the enslaved young people had killed people who had harmed them and then they posed as witnesses. Then they killed themselves. That was how it went. It was true that the Mask Maker was a tool for revenge and it was true they had the freedom to choose for the first time. They drew attention to themselves in death.

Niki was supposed to be next. But someone had noticed her while she was alive. Someone other than Elmer, Esperanza. Someone prior to that.

It was true that the Mask Maker was fake, used by desperate prisoners in a desperate situation.

It was true that the Mask Maker was real. And it was they who had noticed Niki, provided the freedom and the choice and the spark for revenge, their voice defiant and bold, so clear and firm. It was a voice you couldn’t help admiring. It was a voice that noticed you and acknowledged you and brought a choice in its wake.

All these things were true.

The Mask Maker was fake.

The Mask Maker was  _ real _ .

 

_ The demon is coming, lantern in hand. _

_ The demon is coming, wearing a mask. _

_ It’s coming to mask your face. _

_ It’s coming to mask everyone’s faces. _

 

-

 

She told them these things and heard the collective disdain, disbelief. 

“The Mask Maker is real? Bullshit. Do you expect us to believe some random stranger cared enough about you to intercede like that? That there really is a mask-wearing serial killer?”

“You should,” Niki said quietly. “Because the Mask Maker  _ is _ real. Do you believe a bunch of drugged slaves came up with the idea all by ourselves?”

The Chief went to answer, when his phone rang. “This had better not be that obnoxious clown.”

“Do you mean...that Esperanza person?” Niki ventured.

The Chief frowned. “Of course you tried to leech off him too. You disgust me. Now shut up.” He picked up the phone. “Hello?” Somehow his already ugly face darkened all the more. “It’s what?  _ Fuck _ . If I find out who did this, I’ll have their guts. Find them.” He cursed again and hung up, turning to Niki in fury. “So the workshop’s been set on fire. Know anything about that?”

Numbly she shook her head and he moved to strike her and at that precise moment the doors at the back of the van seemed to fling themselves open, revealing a figure in a dramatic cloak and iconic, infamous mask.

They were holding a gun. Niki didn’t know enough about guns to say for definite, but there was something odd about this gun. Something off, something different.

“Give me the witness,” the Mask Maker said, in a voice that was both familiar and wrong. She knew the voice, no matter how the speaker might disguise it and she knew it did not belong to the Mask Maker. The real Mask Maker anyway. Faced with this myth, armed and dangerous, real and fake at once, the men were too stunned to argue. They handed her over, washing their hands of the situation.

The fake Mask Maker ushered her away. “Hey, Niki?” they said, in that familiar voice. “You should smile.”

“Why Elmer?” she asked, voice trembling. “Why did you save me anyway?”

“Because,” Elmer said. “I said we’d solve your case, didn’t I? And we will. That man said something about a drug workshop being on fire. Where there’s fire, there’s smoke, right? That’s got to be our lead. We look for smoke and follow it back to the source.”

“Um…I’m not sure that’s the saying,” Niki began. “The workshop’s a speedboat down at the marina.”

“We’ll go there, then. We’ll solve the case.”

“What is there to solve? There isn’t a mystery.”

“If you don’t pay attention to what’s going on, everything’s a mystery. And we’re going to solve it. Me and you.” Elmer lifted up his mask and smiled. “Welcome to our detective agency.”

And just like that, the world cut, shifted.

From black and white, to _technicolor_.

**Author's Note:**

> SEE.  
> Consider my words marked.
> 
> So yeah. gonna wrap up not-1705, maybe have a couple of shorts with the four on cases bc keeping Niki from Fermet is a must. Then I REALLY want to write JPA I keep going on about it but I'm hyped to do that.
> 
> For all my joking and bitching about this, I really wanted to write this chunk and I'm happy with how it turned out. I like doing different things as a writer and this was something I was less certain about. So had to do it. It was a time, and mostly a good one. Thank you so much for reading and for your support.


End file.
